Hellboy III
by ShoshanaFlower
Summary: Alternate-ending movieverse. If The Golden Army had ended differently, our world might look very different. Set six years after the end of the film.
1. Chapter 1

**Hellboy III  
**

by ShoshanaFlower

Please email shoshanaflower[at]yahoo[dot]com to request permissions.

**Spoilers** - Strong spoilers for Hellboy II

This story is an alternate-ending of the movieverse Hellboy.

* * *

"Avoid suspicion," had been King Nuada's only instruction. The elves did not often try to conceal their presence in his half of the world, but in Queen Nuala's territory - namely the cities - guile generally proved a more efficient tactic than power. As Mierles, homogenized by glamour, walked through veins of human traffic that pulsated throughout the city, she could not help but wonder at her queen's compassion for such creatures.

Cities seemed to exemplify humans' need for artificial order. Streets ran in mathematical grids, each bearing an ordered number from their counting system. Mierles knew enough of the race to understand that this organization grew out of a culture full of legends in which paths turned back on themselves, trees moved, and fairies vandalized road signs - all to confuse any human foolish enough to leave the safety of the city. What the humans didn't know was that such measures had been meant not as petty mischief, but as feeble attempts to remind them of their promise to respect the wild places.

A great change had occurred, though. King Balor was dead, and King Nuada had conceded to his sister's desire that new truces be formed. Now elves and all of what humanity termed "mythical creatures" were allowed in the cities, and humans – provided they did no harm– were allowed in the forests (as though they had ever considered it a boundary before). Trolls, goblins, and especially gremlins, seemed content to enter the human realm. The elves, for the most part, remained content to stay away.

212 was the number of the shop she needed. Another thing about cities she'd noticed - it was not enough for humans to assign everything a number; every number must be immediately visible. Should a number disappear, she had heard humans fell into mild panic. So Mierles saw, in large, bold, white numerals, the figure painted on the glass above the door, above the words "Used and Antiquarian Books."

She pushed through the door and a string of attached bells sounded. The shopkeeper, a wrinkled woman with stunted grey hair, looked up from behind the purchase counter.

"Can I help you find anything?"

Mierles shook her head. "Just browsing," she calmly recited the phrase a Troll merchant had taught her. Choosing an aisle with no patrons, she made her way toward the back, glancing at the titles intermittently to appear interested. In doing so, she saw the reason for her king's contempt for human literature. _Think and Grow Rich!_,_ The History of Sex_, and _Become Your Own Best Friend_, testified to the short and shallow lives of the creatures who wrote and read them. And literacy was prized in their culture.

When she reached the back wall of the shop she found the prized books encased in glass. At least humans seemed to have a basic understanding that certain things of value should be protected, if only from grimy fingers and easy shoplifting. Looking through the glass, she was at first disappointed. None of the books were old enough. A century at best. Then, in the back of the case, she noticed a worn, hidebound manuscript with human and troll lettering. The case was locked. She looked down one of the aisle to the front of the store, in line of sight of the shopkeeper. In a moment, the woman caught her gaze, left her seat, and hurried down the aisle toward her.

"Yes miss? Find something?"

"There's one in the back, but I can't quite see it," Mierles said. Obediently, the woman produced a key ring from her pocket and preceded to open the case. With care, she removed the book in question.

"The pages in this one are flaky," she said apologetically. "And it's written in some kind of German dialect. But it does have a beautiful design, doesn't it?" She handed it to Mierles.

"How old is it?" she asked only to make the woman believe she was unfamiliar with the volume.

"Our expert said a little over two hundred years. It's our oldest text in the store. Do you collect?"

"Yes," she replied, unsure of exactly what the question meant, assuming it had to do with human hoarding. "What is the cost?"

"Seven-hundred."

Mierles turned it over in her hands, feigning deliberation for several moments. "I'll buy it."

- - -

Abandoning her guise as she dropped into the damp room, Mierles pulled the cellar door shut and waited. The room, a basement in a mostly abandoned building, served as a humble, but undisturbed meeting place. Thanks to the rotted stairway, the human heroin addicts stayed in the rooms above.

"You were successful?"

She turned at the king's voice. He wasn't visible: the sole, small window let in only a trickle of electric light from the street above. She held the book out, and felt him take it from her.

"Good." Here he leaned into the wan pool of light, opened the cover, and turned through the leaves.

"The pages deteriorate, but most of them are still in tact."

"We'll take it to a scribe. He'll have the tools to restore it."

For a moment, they stood in silence; Nuada turning the pages, and Mierles waiting. Finally she asked, "Shall I precede your majesty to the council to announce your arrival?"

"No." He closed the book and looked at her. In the weak, white light, his skin fairly glowed. "We'll surprise them."

- - -

"I hope you can get away," Abe said hopefully, still holding out the pair of tickets. "I've been meaning to take you for the past two years, but it's madness trying to get seats. Now, though ... I thought we could celebrate with this."

Nuala took the tickets and looked at the date. "Yes," she said, smiling. "I believe I can make the arrangements."

Abe's shoulders relaxed some as he straightened his back. "Excellent. I do hope it's worth the wait and expectation. You have no idea what I had to do to get a hold of these."

"Nothing to compromising, I hope." She looked at him affectionately. "This is a cultural dance?"

"Yes, something like that. You've probably heard of the story. It's about a little girl who receives a soldier doll as a Christmas gift, falls asleep, and has a fantastic dream about traveling with him to a kingdom where all the holiday sweets dance for her."

The smile warmed her face again. "I've come to appreciate that about humans. They celebrate their naivete."

"Yes, it is a redeeming - " Abe stopped, his mood dropping rapidly to match hers. "Nuala?"

The queen's gaze had instantly become distant and worried. She stretched her fingers as though preparing to feel her way through a dark room. Abe unconsciously mirrored her.

"What is it?" He asked, though he was sure he already knew.

"My brother ... he's coming here."

Discretely, Abe swallowed his disappointment. For the past several days, Nuala had been aware of her twin's presence in the Northeastern United States, but Abe had hoped, foolishly, that he would go back to his domain in the Eastern hemisphere without troubling the Elven council. "I suppose you should greet him?"

"Yes," she said, mentally returning to the room they were in. "Here." She handed him back the tickets. "Save these. And ..." she faltered, unwilling to finish her sentence, "perhaps you should stay with your friends for a time?"

"Oh, of course," he replied quickly, trying to seem insouciant about the matter. He knew, as well as Nuala, that it would be better for both of them if he disappeared for a few days, and he didn't want her to feel guilty for suggesting it.

Abe took the tickets. "Are you sure you'll be alright? Will he -"

"It will be fine," she said, nodding and trying to smile. "Excuse me now. I have to call the council."

With a brief, reciprocated kiss, she glided out of the antechamber, leaving him alone. Sighing, Abe looked down at the ballet tickets. The date was three days from now, and though he had no idea what King Nuada wanted, he doubted it could be satisfactorily disputed in that time.

- - -

The Chamberlain did a poor job of hiding his anxiety at seeing the king. Nuada ignored his stammering entirely, turning his sword and knife over to Mierles, who wordlessly accepted them and stood at attention as he entered the great hall.

Inside, the queen rose deliberately from her throne and smiled at him. "We welcome you back, Brother. Will you take your place?" At this, she gestured to the vacant throne to her right, a replica of the one in which she sat.

The throne was entirely symbolic. A visual representation of the divided crown. "I come with a gift, Sister." Here Nuada revealed the book. Nuala waited calmly at the dias as he approached and handed it to her.

"Our final record. What they've been asking for."

Nuala glanced down at the book, then back to her twin, curious at the spectacle he made out of something that could have been sent to her by messenger. The book _was_ a record, some six hundred years old, of the legendary war and following truce. Many of the human rulers steadfastly denied that such an agreement had ever existed, and therefore that they were in any way obligated to partake in a new contract of peace between the races. Then, five months ago, the Elven Council and United Nations had reached a compromise. If the Council could produce ten separate, written accounts from ten distinct human cultures, the U. N. would consider it an historical fact, and proceed from there. The book in Nuala's hands provided the tenth account.

"It will take time yet for Humans to authenticate this, my brother. Surely you need not have troubled yourself to deliver it personally." But as she spoke, she realized why he had traveled to the Western Council. He believed his presence could intimidate the humans' time-consuming process.

Nuada disregarded her remark, and addressed the court. "Your queen has advocated diplomacy with the humans. We have compromised with them, and done what they demanded. Now we will see if they can abide by their new promise, or if that too is so easily forgotten." He felt Nuala's repressed resentment and looked down to her. "Come, Sister," he said, stepping a pace backward toward the identical thrones. "Let us show the humans that we can play by the rules of their games and still be the victors."


	2. Chapter 2

Mierles quietly stole into the council chamber, dressed in the very recently borrowed attire of her former station –a courtier– per the king's suggestion to her as he took back his weapons. Another of the king's small, armed company came in behind her, similarly attired.

The members stood restlessly awaiting the rulers' return. It took no great insight to see that King Nuada had merely sought a more private place to pacify any of the queen's objections. It would not do to see the co-ruling king and queen disagreeing publically. Also plain to see was the excitement that the king's visit had produced. The recent promise of awakening, after thousands of years spent languishing, left the population restless. The two guards listened and watched as most of the council discussed, in whispers, what action they expected the crown to take next.

- - -

Diplomacy would normally lead Nuala to try to compromise. Nuada was right about the need to proceed with haste to the humans' international council, but to concede this, she knew, would give him the higher ground in their debate, and then their discourse would quickly turn back to their larger disagreements.

"If they feel that they are being intimidated, they'll grow defensive," she offered.

"They should grow obedient," he countered, pacing. Though his voice was laced with hatred, it was also calm. He was not trying to intimated _her_, Nuala noted.

"Perhaps," she said evenly, "they should. But they will not. I agree that we must press them, lead them even, if necessary, but not provoke them. We have the proof they've asked for - "

"Do you honestly believe they'll keep to their word?" She disliked his tone. It wasn't an argumentative question. It was patronizing, almost as though he pitied her naivete.

"I believe they _can_. And some of them want to. The prime minister of -"

"They're human. They will delay everything as long as their fleeting lives last, and then bequeath the deliberations to their offspring. And you, Sister, would wait throughout the ages for one generation to fulfill their promise."

"And you, Brother," she countered softly, "would declare war on their species for weakness that they cannot help. Haven't our people lost enough already? Would you give more of our declining population over to losses of battle?"

Nuada closed his lips tightly, holding back the biting answer that need not be spoken. Nuala felt it, even without seeing the anger brimming in his eyes. He knew, strategically, that he couldn't sacrifice his own warriors in a conflict. Both of them knew that the only possible success in such a confrontation would come from another army - one that stood eternally at attention, unable to act. They had never spoken of it aloud since the day they stood in Bethmoora.

Aware that any word from her would likely incite an outburst from her brother, Nuala lowered her eyes and waited for him to speak.

"We will bring our terms of a new truce with the 'proof' of the ancient one," he said, his fury now fading like a sheltered flame.

"Yes. And let us show them how they have violated it. And also," she added, more gently, "let us use their own understanding to show them their error. Had they kept to the original truce, our world would not be dying."

"You think they care for that?" This time, his question was bitter.

"Yes. Some do, brother. Some are as pained by it as you and I. Just ... not the ones we see. Their rulers are not like us; they grow callous toward their people."

"They seek only to stuff their hollow hearts. That will never change. You can try to tame them, make them your pets, but when greed strikes them, they'll bite your hand."

He said nothing more, but each of them heard the echo, "It is their nature."

- - - - -

"Abe!"

Hellboy's breezy greeting comforted him somewhat as he stood in the doorway of the townhouse, a small bag in his hand. From behind his friend peeked a youthful, horned head.

"Hello Red, Eli. I'm sorry to drop in like this -" he stopped, as Hellboy had already lain a heavy arm on his shoulder and pulled him inside. The narrow living room was decorated with everything from laminated fingerpaintings to red and green paper chains. A Christmas tree tilted in one corner, overly laden with ornaments, and Abe noticed four stockings tacked over the cardboard fireplace.

"Hey Liz -" Hellboy called up the stairs, "Abe's here." Then, turning to his friend, "What's goin' on? --shut the door Eli-- Have a fight with Nuala?"

"No, nothing like that. Well, not exactly like that anyway -"

"Hi Abe," Liz said as she quickly descended the stairs with another demi-demon in tow. "Everything okay?"

"Eh, they just had a spat." Red explained.

"It wasn't a spat," Abe cut in again, "It was more of a -"

"Hi Uncle Abe!" At this Abe felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and the prick of a small horn in his ribs.

"Oh, hello Micah. How are you?"

"Mike," Hellboy called, "Get us a couple beers out of the fridge, will ya? So Abe, she really kick you out?"

"No, no, you've got it completely wrong."

His eyes widened, and after a moment he managed to say, "_You_ packed up?"

"No! Well, yes, but - no."

"Abe," Liz said, taking the beers from Micah and sparing a quick glare at Red, "What happened?"

"Please," Abe tried again, "you're both entirely wrong. Nothing is amiss between Nuala and me. We just thought it would be best if I spent a few days away."

Liz's face betrayed her sympathy, and Hellboy shook his head.

Abe sighed. "Please, it isn't like that. I just need a place to stay for a few days, until King Nuada returns to the Ukraine."

Eli and Micah ceased all activity at the taboo name. After a brief, tense silence, Hellboy said "The king's here?"

"Go upstairs, boys," Liz commanded. Hesitantly, they obeyed.

"I'm afraid he is," Abe replied. "Though I'm not sure how long he'll stay. Poor Nuala. She knew it was coming ...."

"And you didn't tell us?" Hellboy questioned. "How could you not give us a heads up?"

"He has every right to be here. Unfortunately. Though his timing couldn't possibly be worse."

"Happy holidays."

Liz handed the beers to Hellboy and took her friend's arm. "Come on upstairs, Abe. I'll get you a place to sleep."

- - -

"It's pretty cramped," Liz said, by way of apology, tossing Eli's games and balled-up socks off of the lower bunk. "But hopefully it'll only be for a few days, right?" She attempted an encouraging smile.

"Yes ... a few days." He remembered Liz saying something quite similar about her stay in the townhouse some six years earlier.

"Don't take it badly." She sat down on the edge of the bed, and Abe gingerly followed suit. "She just doesn't want the king to serve you up as sushi."

Abe put forth a half-hearted laugh, mostly to show Liz that he appreciated the effort, even if it wasn't very comforting. "I know it's completely reasonable. She's concerned for my safety, yes, but she also knows that, on the whole, everything will go more smoothly - or, at least, less traumatically, if I'm not around."

Liz nodded. "Guy's got issues."

"That would be an accurate assessment of his personality."

"At least that gets you out of awkward, holiday dinners."

"There is that, I suppose," he conceded, but still thought of the two seats in the theatre that would probably go unfilled. "Speaking of holiday dinners, I hope I'm not intruding on any plans of yours."

"Don't worry about it," Liz said, getting up and clapping him on the shoulder. "You're the assistant chef."

- - -

"It _is_ a long-standing tradition in their culture, Brother," Nuala offered, her voice sounding small to her in the empty council chamber. "This is the most important fortnight in their calendar. Surely we can wait for their festivities to end."

"Another delay in a series of delays," Nuada seethed, standing before the throne dias.

Nuala, seated above him with outward calm, repressed the fleeting wish that he would pace, run, even rehearse his kata instead of standing so still, so tensely wound. "The Assembly agreed to see us the first week of their new year. Perhaps ... we too could try to enjoy this time as well."

Nuada looked up at her, but did not answer.

"It's been a very long time since our people celebrated anything," she encouraged.

"It's been a very long time since they've had a _reason_ to celebrate," he replied acidly.

Nuala continued, smiling faintly, "The winter solstice is upon us. Is that not a reason? That, and the fact that we need not keep our traditions –ourselves– secret any longer."

For a moment, his posture softened slightly. "It would please you to renew our old rituals." A pause. "Very well, then. Make whatever preparations you desire."

"Will you attend?"

He nodded, slowly. "If you wish it."

She smiled, rose, and stepped down to stand with him. "It will help, Brother. I know it will. It will stir our stagnancy, remind us how it feels to breathe the cool air."

'_Air fouled by human filth,'_ Nuada thought too quickly and harshly to catch it before his sister heard.

Nuala lowered her head, but insisted, "It will be enough, for now. I will announce it tomorrow."

"My head guard will assist you in whatever you need."

She smiled to him affectionately, then turned and walked toward the council doors.

Nuada began to look back to the throne, but stopped and turned sharply toward Nuala's back. At the pressure of his cold stare, she paused, and meekly turned to meet his eyes.

"Where are you going, Sister?" he asked in a warning.

She didn't answer, but felt the volume of his rage increase.

He walked toward her, stopping a foot away. "Could you not be parted from him for a day? Is he so vital to your existence?"

"We planned to attend a theatre performance. I need to tell him I won't be able to."

"Theatre. You say you want to revive our customs, and yet you patronize their barbaric culture?"

Again, she made no audible response, but knew he'd heard her.

"Where does your allegiance lie?" He stared bitterly back into the reflection of his own eyes. Quickly, carefully, he grabbed hold of her arm. "You know, you're becoming -" he stopped, his face betraying shock. For a moment he stood still, focusing on the sensation passing from her skin to his fingers. Then, slowly, he laid his other hand on her face, and then her stomach. His forehead tightened as he breathed, "Nuala."

Calmly, she looked up and declared, "Yes."

Nuada shook his head, pulling away. "No. You can't be. You-"

"Please, Brother, be happy for me. For us. Our family line will be extended now. There will be new life again."

"New life?" he questioned in disbelief. "What kind of new life? Is it not enough that we allow them in our courts, in our markets? Is it not enough that we see them every day, making bargains and truces and trade agreements with them? Must they now infect our bloodline?"

"Abraham is _not_ human," she said sternly.

"Isn't he? Doesn't he reek of them? Live with them? Is their small, perverted culture not his own? He's polluted you with their insular mentality."

"He has shown me the value in their culture. He exemplifies the purest, most redeeming virtues of humankind."

"And so you would breed with the greatest of filth?" he shouted.

"He's not human! He is a loyal subject of our crown, and our child will be of the line of King Balor."

"Never," Nuada seethed. "I will not see the offspring of such a union upon the throne. It is of no royal blood."

She merely shook her head. "That is a decree you cannot make, Brother."

"Nuala, how could you have done this? You are not a common ...." He turned away, but Nuala keenly felt his heartache and disappointment. Without another word, she left.

- - -

"Oh," Liz said, surprised by the fair-skinned queen and two Elven guards on her doorstep. "Come in." She stepped aside, letting her pseudo sister-in-law pass. The guards remained outside.

"Forgive me for coming to your home so late, and unannounced," Nuala apologized.

"No problem. Abe's on the back deck." She led her through the living room (Hellboy nodded from the couch in acknowledgment) and pulled open the sliding glass door.

At the sound, Abe spun around. "Oh! Nuala," he said, immediately reaching for her. "What's happened?"

She said nothing at first, and clasped her hands in front of her, avoiding his touch.

"Um," Liz said, feeling awkward between the quiet couple, "Why don't you two talk in the kitchen? It's warmer."

Left alone in the kitchenette, the two stood between the book reports on the refrigerator and the drawings on the stove. Nuala broke the silence first, her fingers grazing his dry skin. "You're so cold. Why were you standing outside?"

"Just ... thinking. It's relatively quiet out there."

She reached up to his face to remove his goggles.

"What's brought you here, darling?" he asked, taking hold of the hand that held his lenses. "There. You _did_ have an argument with him. I shouldn't have left."

"I asked you to."

"I shouldn't have listened. Nuala, he said that? You let him say that to you?"

"Please, you don't understand how he feels."

"I hardly think it matters what he feels. To suggest our baby is anything less than a miracle, to say she comes from _filth_ -"

"It won't do any good to be angry with him. Don't worry about what he said."

"Uh! And to imply that you'd done something wrong .... Nuala, how do you let him treat you that way?"

Softly, she pressed her free fingers to his lips, ending the familiar argument. "Please. Not now. I didn't come here to talk about that." She moved her hand from his and rested her head against his shoulder. "I won't be able to see the dance with you, but I want you to come to our festival of the winter solstice."

"I didn't know you had one," he said, arms circling her back reciprocally.

"We haven't for ages, but I'm renewing the custom this year. Please, be there with me."

"I'll look forward to it."

"And, return with me tonight. I should not have asked you to leave your home."

"You were trying to prevent a catastrophe." He stroked the back of her head. "I understand. Even so, I'm sure Eli will be happy to have his bed back."

"Whoa."

They separated and looked at the wide-mouthed, short-horned boy standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Speak of the devil ..." Abe muttered.

"You guys are having a baby?" Eli said, a bit too loudly for Abe's liking. Nuala smiled.

"We didn't plan to tell anyone yet," Abe said.

"Why not?"

"I believe it's customary in your culture," Nuala explained, "not to say anything for the first three weeks."

"Huh?"

Abe sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter. It's not a human pregnancy. I just wanted it to be _ours_ for a while."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"She'll be a girl," Nuala answered. Eli looked disappointed.

"Well, you might as well go tell your parents," Abe said, resignedly. Eli needed no further prompting, and ran directly to the livingroom.

"Dad! Mom! Aunt Nuala's gonna have a baby!"

Abe brushed Nuala's cheek with the back of his hand. "I hope you're ready for the tabloids."


	3. Chapter 3

The shining white stars speckled the sky above the clearing where almost two hundred elves had gathered to celebrate the coming dawn. Mierles, watching from her post at the rim of pines, had nearly forgotten that her people had ever danced. Apparently, so did many of her fellows, if their looks of perplexity were any indication.

A dozen Elven guards like her, dressed in formal, bright reds and oranges, sectioned the perimeter, while six black-armed guards stood around the king and queen. Queen Nuala had given them all explicit orders not to kill or injure any interfering humans, but to simply send them back the way they'd come. More than a few newscasters had been sternly removed from the grounds already. They were annoying and persistent as tree squirrels, but Mierles nearly admired their lack of fear. Humans were by far the most brazen creatures she'd ever encountered.

Also surprisingly bold was the queen herself, Mierles noticed, glancing at the aquatic being standing beside her. Advisor Abraham Sapien was a greater curio than Queen Nuala, and just as well discussed among the elves. She judged him to be ill at ease by the way he continuously twined and untwined his fingers, half-watching the spectacle before him.

That the king disapproved of his sister's minion was no secret in the kingdom, but King Nuada's grim demeanor testified to a greater hatred than Mierles had imagined. Though, it may have had to do with the additional presence of the demon Hellboy, who wore a very human expression of boredom.

Movement from the guard to Mierles' right interrupted her gazing. She sighed. Another human reporter. The first guard moved into the woods to intercept the cultural scavenger, who began flashing pictures as soon as he realized he'd get no closer to the ceremony. One human was not a trial, so neither Mierles nor any of the other guards offered any help. But this man put up a greater struggle than the others had, obstinately taking pictures and squirming out of the guard's restrained grasp.

It seemed nothing more than an annoyance, but all attention flew to King Nuada as he slowly, forcefully strode from his place toward the scene of commotion. The anger in his expression frightened even Mierles, who had thought herself well accustomed to it.

Quickly, Queen Nuala ran after him a few short steps before halting mid-dash, like an instinct repressed. She remained with her arm frozen reaching after him. Abraham, of course, was at her side, while Hellboy adopted a battle-ready stance.

As Nuada approached, the guard stepped away from the photographer without waiting for the command to do so. For a moment, the man finally stopped taking pictures, staring at the figure before him instead.

"Are you unaware that your actions violate the 12th treaty between our nations?" the king demanded.

"N-no sir, I'm an independent -"

"You know the laws. You learn each boundary to find ways to bypass them. What will it take to make you obey your own edicts?"

"You don't understand, sir -"

"_I understand!_" Everything, even the wind seemed to fall silent at Nuada's shout. "You are the one who does not." Here he deftly unsheathed his sword. A collective gasp rose from several members of the crowd, Nuala not the least of them.

"Will it take a warning?" he continued. "Am I forced to hang your corpse as an amulet to keep your kind from plaguing us?"

"Brother!" Queen Nuala's cry was a command, not a plea.

Nuada lowered his sword and turned to face the queen. Shaking on a smile, he asked, "Did you say something, _Queen _Nuala?"

"No one will die here tonight. This is a time of celebration."

"Celebration?" he advanced toward her. "Remind me again, what is it we are here celebrating? Is it our human-granted right to pay respects to abandoned gods in a scarce plot of land that has not yet been paved?"

Nuala's face remained firm.

Behind them, the photographer's flash sparked. Mierles pulled the camera from him and crushed it beneath her boot.

Nuada glared dangerously at the man. "You audacious human. You _were_ granted grace."

"There will be no deaths here tonight," Nuala repeated soundly. Locking her round, gold eyes on the photographer she said, "Leave at once, and do not return."

As the man stumbled backwards into the woods, Nuada rounded on her, sheathing his sword. "What right have you to dispute me? What gives you _any_ right?"

Abe stepped forward to intervene, but Nuala held her hand out.

Nuada's eyes flashed first at Abraham, before setting back on his sister. He took hold of her wrist. "How does any of this interest you, Sister? What could possibly bring you to care about the dignity of your race?"

At this, Hellboy physically restrained his friend. But Nuala looked up sharply into her brother's face. "I care. The wellness of my people has been my primary concern, nigh my only concern for the past six years. I have been their queen, I have given my life over to them completely, willingly."

"Six years!" He pulled her arm closer to his chest, as their subjects watched. "Where were you for more than six thousand years? What was your primary concern then? You dare tell me that you have been their queen for a mere six years?" Letting go of her wrist, he took her by the shoulders. "What were you doing, Sister, while your people wasted? While they faded from this world? Tell me!"

Nuala neither met his glare nor answered him. Behind them, Red was in danger of doing Abe bodily harm by holding him at bay.

"I know where you were," Nuada answered for her, his voice low. "You were hiding. You were tucked away in your rusting palace, sheltered from the hideous face of humanity, and content to let us rot into the earth. Content to let your king lead us to our destruction. You dare - you dare speak to me of your concerns and your sacrifice? You dare believe that you have any right to our crown?" For a moment, tense silence prevailed. Nuada dropped his hands, Hellboy released Abe. No one addressed the king as he strode into the woods.

Gently, Abe put his hand on Nuala's shoulder, but she pulled away. "Please excuse me," her voice shook, and she followed in her brother's wake.

"Better let her go," Red advised.

"Why did you hold me back?" Abe shouted as soon as he believed Nuala to be out of earshot. "How could you let him talk to her like that? Treat her like that?"

"Abe - "

"You would never have allowed anyone to treat Liz that way!"

"She isn't Liz," Mierles interjected, stepping away from her post. "Does the queen need to be protected from the words of the king?"

"Queen or not, I won't stand by and watch her be abused!"

"She stood by and watched us disgraced."

Murmurs ran through the assembled elves. Mierles went on. "A queen should own her actions. If she is strong enough to bear the crown, she is strong enough to bear the truth."

"Abe," Red cut in, lowering his voice in an attempt to have a private word among the congregation. "I know how you feel. But you've got to let her fight her own battles sometimes, you know? Or else she's always going to feel like she can't do anything herself. And then she'll be moody all the time."

"And," Mierles added, "others may wonder whether she is our ruler, or a placeholder."

"I find it difficult to believe that your people are capable of questioning their rulers," Abe countered quietly.

Mierles glowered. "We stand behind our ruler until death, but that does not mean we do not think. It does not mean that we do not see what they do, or fail to do. It does _not_ mean that we aren't aware, painfully, of wisdom or foolishness in their choices." Swiftly, she spun away and glided back toward her post, orange gown flaming behind her.

"Abe," Red said, leading his friend a few steps outside the ring of the festival. "I get this whole knight in armor thing, okay? But she's not exactly a damsel in distress. If she weren't on our side, she'd have probably handed us our asses a long time ago."

"I know. I know she can take care of herself. But am I really supposed to let Nuada treat her that way? Is that really what she wants?"

"I don't know. She's your girlfriend."

"We're actually married by Elven customs," he muttered.

"Huh," Red raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"What did Mierles mean by that? What do people say about Nuala?"

"You know, you should pick up a paper now and then. See what the rest of the world says about her."

- - -

Nuala found her brother kneeling at a frozen pond, his back toward her. Slowly, she approached.

"You were right, brother," she said steadily, her fluid breath like smoke against the black sky. "I _was_ content, like our father, to let our names vanish from the earth." She waited. When he still did not acknowledge her, she continued. "You alone bore the burden of saving us from our self-destruction. Yet when you returned to fulfill your birthright, we did not stand with you." Now she stood at the edge of the pond, looking down at his smooth, white hair. "But I will not allow us to perish now, and the burden is no longer only yours."

He let out a breath, not a sigh, and Nuala felt him searching her mind for sincerity.

"I will stand with you, dear brother." At this, she held out one hand. Nuada looked up at her.

'_I cannot share the crown and stand _behind_ you,'_ she stated, mentally. _'Neither can one of us bear the crown alone.'_

He ignored her hand and looked back to the ice. "No," he said, the warmth of his breath illuminated by the moonlight. "Not alone. Everything has been divided over us, since before our birth."

"Shared, Brother. Not divided." Another silence, and she said, "They'll miss us soon."

"Yes," he said standing. "Let's return."

- - -

Abe knew it was well after dawn, but in Nuala's windowless bedchamber, it might have been midnight. She lay, supine, on the bed while he stood several feet away removing his breathing apparatus.

"Well," he began, trying to break the silence, "no one was seriously injured. I'd call that a success, wouldn't you?"

She didn't respond. He laid his neck filter on the table and shuffled to her. "I'm sorry things went so badly, darling," he said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "But really, all things considered, it wasn't a catastrophe." She still said nothing, and Abe, accustomed to their intimate exchange of thought, rambled uneasily, "Next year will certainly be smoother, we'll just have to find a way to reinforce security measures. I've never been a fan of the paparazzi. I'm actually fairly certain that society could survive quite well without them." He paused, frustrated. "Please, Nuala, let me see what happened. What did he say to you?"

"He wasn't unjustified, Abraham."

"I - I didn't mean to suggest -"

"He was right. At least about one part. I have only served my people for six years. Even if his way was destructive, he did try to save us. I did nothing." She held out her hand. Abe took it, and witnessed the scene by the pond.

"It hasn't been easy for him. You must understand that despite being apart for so many centuries, we have always been together the same way. Now that things have changed ... adaptation is painful." She took her hand from his and laid it on her stomach. Abe rested his palm next to hers.

"She's so very small," he breathed. "It's like watching a microscopic life form."

For several moments, they were still, each watching the scarcely discernible cluster of cells.

"You should sleep today," Abe finally said. "You both need the rest." He felt her acquiescence to the suggestion, and gently began to unlatch the outer ornaments of her gown. When he'd helped her remove her dress, he stopped. Of course, nothing about her body looked different, yet, but for a moment he imaged how Nuala's appearance would change months from now. He remembered how Liz –fully clothed, naturally– had looked in her last month of pregnancy.

Nuala, now sitting on the bed, looked at him curiously.

"I was just ... envying you a bit. Sounds strange, I know, but you already have a closer bond with her than I do. And who knows how long your gestation period will be? A year? Less? More? It all depends on how she develops, and we no nothing about that since, genetically, she's the first of her kind. There's so much I want to know, and I feel like I'm separated, on the outside looking in."

"I'm sure you'll know much more than most fathers," she said, placing his hand back on her abdomen. Again, Abe felt the warm and thoughtless existence of the embryonic princess.

"Amazing," he whispered, and ran the palm of his hand over her ivory skin. Skin that looked so brittle, but felt so very strong. His fingers touched the scars on her left side and traced them. Odd, he thought, that he should be so well acquainted with Nuada's battle scars. Yet he knew–and loved–them all by heart.

"I feared for him then," she said, referencing the longer of the two wounds. "He was afraid, which felt strange, and I couldn't stop the bleeding for some time."

"Yet hardly ever frightened for yourself," Abe remarked, moving his hands up her torso.

"I wasn't the one facing the sword."

"You weren't wielding one either." He reached her face and cupped her chin. "I was just wondering if all of this," he gestured to her bare stomach, "means that the king will suffer a few stretch marks."

Her face broke into the smile he'd been waiting for, followed by a fondly reproachful look. She reached for him, lacing her arms behind his neck. "I do look forward to this. The world has never seemed more unstable to me than now, but even so, I find myself so ..." she turned her head away for a moment, looking for a suitable word, "hopeful. It seems that this is a sign that we will go on. All of us."

"I've never had more faith in anything. Come now, dearest, you're growing cold." He pulled away and handed her the night dress he'd taken out for her.

She began to put it on. "I don't think I _am_ ready for the tabloids."

"Oh, well they'll be offensive, certainly, but Red and Liz survived it all."

"It's not just the personal injury. My people see the mockery they make of our love - of us. Even the more respectable news reporters gawk under the pretense of discussing 'inter-species marriage.' It's demeaning for my race to be thought of as alien or bestial.

"I remember what was written and said about Eli and Micah. The predictive drawings about what they'd look like, even about what Liz's delivery would be like. In my culture, as you well know, some things are still sacred. It won't just be you and I who'll be the joke, our nation will be fodder for human laughter."

Abe finished lacing the back of her gown. "We could still try to keep it a secret."

"No," she said quickly, "that would be worse. I won't hide in fear of their crude jests. I have no regrets about our this conception, and I won't behave as though I do." After another moment she added, "It will hurt him, though, when he hears what they'll say."

"All we can do is bear it with dignity, my darling. Perhaps you should make a public appearance to announce it. _Oprah_, for instance. That would be a good way to get the northwestern hemisphere behind you."

"That idea has merit. Nuada would despise my doing something like that."

"I think the king would despise anything that strengthened human-elf relations. Regardless, right now no one but our families know. There are no tabloids, news specials, talk show speculations, or any such invasive thing. She's all ours."

Nuala leaned back into the pillows. "Yes, I'm glad of it."

Abe left her just long enough to extinguish the lights, then curled back beside her, fingers twined in hers.

"You shouldn't -" she began, but he interrupted.

"I'll only stay until you're asleep." The carved pool of water that surfaced in her bedchamber enticed his nearly-peeling skin, but it could wait. She didn't object further, instead turned her head to his shoulder. He listened to her steady, soft breathing, felt her body gradually relax until her nervous systems assured him she was dreaming. Then, quietly, Abe left their bed, and slipped into his water cavern to sleep.

- - -

Nuada avoided the sewers' streams of waste effortlessly, and Mierles, behind him, carefully followed his feet.

Though his rage had been pacified, the king had quit the quarters reserved for him in the palace. He'd left the rest of his armed accompaniment there, taking only Mierles, though they both knew he didn't need a guard.

The two journeyed wordlessly through several miles of the dark tunnels, passing rats and the lowest order of humans, who were oblivious to their presence. As they did, Mierles realized, coldly, that even her king had succumbed to living in humanity's cast-off recesses.

Nuada disappeared into an alcove in the brick, the entrance to his small apartment. Mierles stopped just inside and beheld everything in the diluted light that fell from the street above. In surprise, she realized the details of his living quarters. He must have intended to keep this strange refuge, as he had clearly left the room and its contents in tact when took his small army to the Nordic lands.

While she surveyed, he lit a fire in the hearth, giving the small room an oddly diametric ambiance.

"We will stay here until meeting with the United Nations. Once we are successful there, I will return to the Ukraine and continue negotiations from there."

"Yes, my lord."

"Sleep where you like," he said, kneeling before a cabinet door beneath the table. "Don't worry about standing watch; no one will disturb us here." As he said this, he withdrew a straw mat and handed it to her.

Mierles obeisantly accepted her bedding, as Nuada laid the upper portion, a slight tick mattress, on a comparably dry part of the stone ground for himself.

Finding a similarly suitable place, Mierles spread the mat, set her bow and quiver beside it, and looked back toward the king.

"I will leave half of my guard here."

Mierles looked at him with deferential questioning.

"You will stay. My sister has not seen fit to train more of her people. Triple the number of our own warriors before I return here again."

"My lord ..."

"Do you object?"

"Never, sire," she said softly.

"I'll leave you better instructors than yourself. You need only to direct them and report back to me."

Mierles nodded once. The king sat, legs folded, eyes closed, and head lifted toward the scant light.

"There is one other charge I leave you with," he said as she began to lie down. "Watch after my sister. Safeguarding her is your primary task." Opening his eyes, the king lay back, moving out of the path of light. Mierles rested her face against the straw.


	4. Chapter 4

_11 Months Later_

"Then just click 'publish,' and you're done."

Nuala selected the interface button. "And the ones who access this can publish notes to me?"

"Yes, comments. I'm sure you'll have some before the day is out. Of course, some of them will inevitably be ... unkind." The two sat, alone, in throne room's antechamber, leaning over Abe's archaic BPRD issue laptop.

"I can comment back to them as well?"

"Yes. It's completely interactive. This is an excellent way to stay in contact with your grassroots supporters." After Nuala's pregnancy announcement, the disunified collection of human fans and Tolkien lovers had increased in numbers, sincerity, and solidarity. Though Abe had been managing her online public relations, Nuala had since requested he teach her the details and mechanics of internet communications so she could deal with them directly.

"They have been very helpful these past several weeks." Nuala exited the screen and delicately closed the laptop computer. Abe knelt next to her chair. She wore a white and gold gown, which brought out all the more her brilliant skin. Upon first seeing her that morning, Abe had predicted rain, declaring that the sun would rather retire than be upstaged.

And, as they sat side by side at the long table in an otherwise empty meeting hall, it was indeed raining outside.

She looked at her hands. "Our opposition is more volatile than ever. The organizations against the new truce are growing every month. They will become violent soon, if we let them."

"Your human following will make relations better," he said, taking hold of her fingers. "It'll be much easier to work with U.S. legislation with voters on your side. Besides, you shouldn't be worrying yourself this far along. Let the council handle things for a little while." He rested his palm on her now prominent stomach. "Believe me, she'll grow up in a completely different world, dearest. Look. She's happy already."

Nuala smiled, feeling her child's contentment dispel some of her own uneasiness. "She has nothing to fear, now. But in a few days she'll be in a different world. Apart from you, I've found little joy in this world recently."

Abe took her fretting hands. "In a few days, we'll have an entire bundle of joy to brighten things up. Try not to worry. We won't let anything happen."

"Abraham," she countered, almost patronizingly, "the council won't stand against my brother."

"They won't need to. Please, dearest, trust me just a little. You don't need to worry about this now. _Rest_ for the next few days."

Nuala appeared not to have heard him. "He'll be here soon. He's looking for me now."

Abe let go of her hands, wanting to conceal his own worries from her. He wanted to ask Nuala, again, if she was sure about him being there when Nuada arrived. He held the question back. He did want to be there, to make sure the king kept his temper. Though, admittedly, the King seemed much more inclined to lose it in jealously when Abe _was_ there. Which was why he itched to ask Nuala, again, if she was sure.

But she looked up with a trace of surprise in her cool demeanor, closed the screen onto the keyboard and smoothed her gown. Abe looked toward the door. There were indistinct voices

outside, and then it opened. A goblin servant bowed hastily and announced, "His Royal Majesty, King Nuada."

Nuala rose from her chair, and Abe followed suit, standing close behind her.

The goblin held the door open and Nuada, arrayed in his warrior's glory, entered. Before the door fell shut, Abe thought he glimpsed an armored Elf guard standing outside.

"Forgive me for not meeting you, Brother," Nuala said as her twin approached. "My mind is distracted as of late." In explanation she raised a hand to her belly. Her high-waisted dress presented the fullness of her expectancy with two streaming strands of gold on either side of the white gown.

"I thought perhaps you were hiding from me," Nuada replied. Abe thought the words accusatory, but the king's tone was almost beguiling.

"I welcome you back," she said.

Nuada stepped closer and laid his hand on the pale silk covering his sister's stomach. She didn't resist, but Abe grew tense.

For several moments (to Abe's increasing unease) no one spoke. Progressively, Nuada's face grew soft; he lowered his eyes to hers.

"An amazing accomplishment. And ..." he tilted his head, "not long now."

"I expect within five days. That is why you came, is it not?"

"To help while you're indisposed. I've been watching the tension build here. Our enemies are organizing."

Simultaneously, they both looked down at Nuala's belly.

"It seems she likes you," Nuala suggested. He moved his hand away.

"Your highness," Abe interjected, "I'm sure everything can wait a few more days until the queen is better able to take part in the proceedings. Our informants don't suggest that the Purists or any other extremists are planning anything within the next two or three months."

"Your advice is appreciated," Nuada said curtly. Looking at him but speaking to Nuala, he said, "Perhaps this discussion should be brought before the council."

"Brother," Nuala said tentatively, "It's nearly been a year since I've seen you. There are other matters I had hoped to discuss."

He focused on her. Nuala gave a entreating smile, and he nodded. "Yes. Very well."

"Abraham," Nuala said, looking over her shoulder, "Would you please excuse us?"

"Oh, yes. Of course, if you'd like." When it was clear that's what she wanted, Abe slid through the small space between the twins and the wall, receiving a shielded, but still cautionary look from Nuada. On the other side of the door, he stumbled into the same female warrior who'd confronted him the previous winter.

"Oh, excuse me," he said, stepping back.

She nodded, then gave a brief, disinterested sigh and returned to standing by the doors.

"Mierles, isn't it?" Abe said.

"Yes. Advisor Sapien," she returned.

"Oh, Abe is fine, please. I ... suppose you've already met with King Nuada?"

"I have."

"I assume he'll want to inspect your troops," Abe verbally fidgeted.

"His majesty will evaluate his soldiers at his convenience."

Abandoning the vain attempt at small talk, Abe decided he might as well stop standing at the door like an eavesdropper. "I think they'll be a while," he suggested. "I was heading across the hall to the library, if you'd rather wait in a more comfortable atmosphere. I'm sure you'll be able to hear the king leave when they're through."

She looked at him, now with a spark of interest, and nodded.

- - -

"You've accumulated quite a number of books." Mierles looked over the titles of his collection. "These are unusual," she said, fingering the spine of a hand crafted encyclopedia.

"Yes, most of these belonged to Professor Bruttenhölme. Initially, after his death, they remained BPRD property, but after the department's ... renovation, they weren't needed any longer. I was able to keep most of them."

Mierles continued scanning the titles.

"Would you like to read one? I have selections from some of humanity's greatest writers."

"I doubt I would be very interested."

"No, I think you might like some of it. We have a saying, 'don't judge a book by its cover.' Here," he ran his finger over the spines and withdrew it from the shelf. "John Donne. He's considered one of the greatest poets of the English language." He opened the book, found a page, and handed it to her. "Try this one: 'The Sun Rising,' an aubade."

"An 'aubade?'"

"Yes, a poem that tells the story of two lovers when one must leave with the coming dawn."

"There is a name for such a thing in your literature?" she asked, incredulous.

"You'll find that secret love is a frequent theme in human writing. Happy love stories are generally relegated to comedies; serious love stories seem always to be tainted with sadness." He looked back at the book. "I've come to understand this poem. The hours determining time spent together, the pain in leaving. Though, for myself, I've often felt it's the moon rather than the sun interrupting stolen time together.'"

Mierles stared.

"I'm sorry. That was a bit too personal, wasn't it?"

"No. Though ... no. I had not considered that you and her royal majesty would not sleep near each other."

"I'm happy enough to spend the days with her," he said, turning away and waving his hand dismissively. "And really, it's a rather foolish to complain about sleeping separately. I'm unconscious after all." He looked back at her. "What difference should it make?"

"No," she replied slowly, "I believe I understand you. Asleep, we are our honest selves. Sharing that honesty is invaluable, even if we gain little from it in the waking world."

"Yes, I think that's it, or something like that anyway. To be away from all the litigations and councils, courts, diplomats ... just to be alone and unguarded with her."

They were quiet for several moments. Abe handed her the volume, and Mierles began to read. When she'd finished, she raised her eyes to his.

"Mierles ..." He started, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I would like to read this again."

"Yes, please take it with you; read it at your leisure."

"Thank you."

After another moment, Mierles' eyes crept toward the door leading to the hall.

Abe wove his fingers together.

"Was there something else?" she asked, returning her sight to him.

"I ... wouldn't like to be too bold."

"Whatever it is, I can always decline to answer."

"Yes, well, I know there is ..." he vainly sought the most appropriate terms possible, "something between you and King Nuada, and I just wanted to ask -" He paused, trying to detect a reaction on her face. Her expression had turned more guarded, but she was listening. "I suppose I simply wanted to ask, why?"

Mierles closed the book. "You see his majesty as the humans do."

"No, it's not that. I know how Nuala feels toward him, so I know he isn't as sadistic as he seems. What I meant was, he seems so very ... uninterested in you. And–oh, that's not what I meant. Please, don't take that the wrong way; I think you're a very interesting person. Very insightful, and intelligent, open-minded."

"I understand," she cut off his rambling. "Perhaps because you and her majesty experience, as I understand it, an unusually intimate connection, you forget that most others can never be quite so close." She took a step closer to him. "No, King Nuada does not reciprocate my exact affections. But we each know it. And I'm content."

"But only content. Why not find someone who does love you in return?"

She shook her head and, for the first time Abe had seen, smiled. "Just because what you call 'love' doesn't exist always as we want it to, does not mean it does not exist at all. Think of this; if Queen Nuala could only love you one day out of seven, would you not stay with

her through the other six? Or, if you could only spend the days with her, and had to spend your nights alone, would that stop you from enjoying your days?"

For a moment, Abe considered. Then, gently, he replied "When you say it that way, I think I understand quite well."

Mierles glanced down at the volume in her hands. "Thank you for the loan of this. I shall return it to you shortly."

"Take your time."

She left the room without looking back, and Abe returned to the bookshelf.

- - -

"_Mierles. See that our guests arrive here safely. You know how fragile they can be."_

Four humans–three women and one man–stood in the clearing. They didn't look like Mierles had expected. The images she'd already seen, as well as the Supporters rallying outside of press conferences, had all worn what Abraham had termed "neo-hippie" clothing. These were

attired formally, if not wisely; two of the women wore high heeled shoes. All of them jumped when she stepped out in front of their huddle.

"I am head of King Nuada's guard. I'll escort you to the royal court."

The woman in flat shoes looked as though she was about to make introductions, but Mierles turned away and began to walk. They trudged noisily, but wordlessly behind her, and she was

obliged to slow her already easy pace. After they had covered some distance in the dense wood, the flat-shoed woman spoke up.

"Excuse me, ma'am, will you –or someone– be taking us back?"

"You won't have to worry about navigating the trails by yourselves. King Nuada will make sure you are removed from our territory."

No one spoke again until they reached the gates. The supporters stood staring at the intricate and mesmerizing patterns of interwoven branches that covered the stronger doors beneath. Mierles faced them, converting their attention.

"When we enter the council chamber, kneel and lower your heads. Do not speak unless you are directly questioned. If you do speak, address the king or queen as 'Your royal highness.' Do _not_ use their names. Have you any questions on court conduct?"

This time, the question came from the high-heeled woman. "Is it polite to congratulate Queen Nua- the queen on her pregnancy?"

"Absolutely not. Other questions?" No one indicated any further questions. Determining the group to be sufficiently briefed on council etiquette, Mierles led them inside. Allowing both the band of humans and the Chamberlain a moment to gawk at one another, she continued, "Leave any of your electronic devises here. None of your cellular telephones or computers will be tolerated."

Liaison Thomas Manning was already within, chatting to an unresponsive black-armed guard. At the thrones, the king's threadbare patience was visible on his face. Queen Nuala, on the other hand, looked particularly serene, and even smiled at the ragtag Supporter representatives. Mierles kneeled, casting a quick glance behind to see that the humans were as well. Satisfactorily, all of them dropped to their knees and lowered their heads.

"Very good, Mierles," King Nuada's voice rang. "Each in one piece."

"We welcome our human friends to this court," Queen Nuala added. "You may rise."

All stood, and Mierles moved to stand with the courtiers, leaving the Supporters before the thrones.

"You have been asked here not as allies, but as enemies of a shared enemy," Nuada stated. "It is our wish that an association between our factions will prove, as you like to say, mutually beneficial."

The flat-shoed woman, after a quick, furtive look toward Mierles, addressed the throne. "We avail ourselves to offer any assistance we can, your royal majesties."

Nuala answered. "We have done all that we can to try to assure your government, and human governments around the world that there is no need for violence. It is our hope that by working within human circles, you will be able to promote this belief as well. Extremist groups, such as the one that names itself 'The Purists,' are increasing in number. We wish to avoid armed confrontation." At a mental press from Nuada, she added, "We believe our efforts in a war would prove the end of your kind."

The human group looked at one another uneasily.

"Liason Manning will be your contact," Nuala went on. Manning raised a hand and nodded to them. He made to speak, but a nearby courtesan stopped him with a glare. "Please stay in communication with our council."

They each nodded reverently.

"That," Nuada said, "concludes this meeting. My guard will escort you and Liason Manning back to your own land."

Two of the women showed evident surprise at the brevity of the meeting, but Mierles had already stepped forward. The man knelt again, and the women quickly followed suit. Then, ushered by the guard, the four (as well as a somewhat disgruntled Manning) left, still looking a bit befuddled.

At the thrones, Nuada looked back to his sister. She didn't meet his eyes.

- - -

"I read the book," Mierles said, pulling the large door to the queen's chamber closed behind her. "I admit my error, Abraham. Your literature has impressed."

Abe glanced up at her, absently wringing his fingers while trying to register what she'd said. "The ... oh, yes, the book. Yes, I ... I hope you like it. Er, liked it. Please, Mierles, what's going on?"

"Everything is 'going on' as it should be. Her majesty is not the first to give birth to a child, Abraham."

"But it's the first time she's ever done it. Are you certain I can't be there with her? Has she asked for me?"

"I am, and she has not. Be calm. She is not human; she's in no danger."

"Yes, I know. I do. I just can't stop worrying. And wondering. I've never been so impatient before. I've been waiting to hold my daughter for a year now, and I think it's been the longest year of my life."

"You are amusing. Do you insist on standing outside the door like forgotten dog?"

"I couldn't possibly leave."

"Then excuse me," she said, opening the massive door and slipping inside. Abe stretched to get a glimpse inside, but saw only the bed and the two other attendants who stood near it before the door fell closed.

Inside, Mierles knelt next to the queen.

"Is he alright?" Nuala asked breathlessly.

"He fidgets like a frightened child, your royal majesty, but he'll be fine."

The queen closed her eyes. "You're worried ... but not for Abraham."

"Your majesty ..?"

"Don't worry. I can feel him even now. We'll both be fine."

- - -

_An hour later_

"He's taken her to water," Nuala said in answer to her brother's unspoken wondering. They were alone. He continued across the room, and sat down on the edge of her bed. Eyes closed, she spoke.

"I remembered something strange recently. Somewhere I heard of the game human children play called 'hide and seek.'One child hides, and the other one seeks him out. It made me think of a game of ours." Here she looked up at him and weakly smiled. When he said nothing, she looked back to the ceiling and continued. "It was such a long time ago, wasn't it? We were still small. Do you remember it? We each would hide, and then find each other. Remember?" Again she looked at him. He nodded.

"It was another lifetime completely," she said. "And difficult to recall." The queen closed her eyes, reviewing faint memories of running with her brother. Young then. Happy. Innocent. She saw his childish smile as they met each other in the middle of a ring of pines.

Nuada looked down at his sister's lips curving smoothly in her dream-like state. Closing his eyes, he tried to peer into her mind, to see what she was seeing.

He did remember, but very vaguely. Yet there were he and Nuala as mere children. Small. He'd forgotten that they had ever been so small. Nuala giggling as she touched the ticklish quills on a caterpillar's back. He kicking up patches in the carpet of pine needles, watching them rain back down, then meticulously plucking them from her hair. Going off to different parts of the wood, then seeing through the other's eyes to lead them back. Embracing when they met after only a short time of being parted. It always felt better then when they were together.

He opened his eyes. Nuala was asleep.

The door opened abruptly, disturbing the silence of the room. Nuada twisted the upper portion of his body to see Abraham stop short, half-inside the chamber, with an armful of white fluff that was surely the child.

"Oh," Abe said, blinking. "Excuse me." Despite realizing he was somehow intruding, Abe quietly closed the door with his free hand and continued toward the bed. Nuada turned back to his waking sister.

"I'm sorry if I woke you, darling," Abe whispered, approaching.

Nuala lifted her head and smiled when she saw him.

"She's quite refreshed now," Abe said, glancing down at the baby.

"Was she able to breathe properly?"

"Well, I didn't submerge her completely, just up to her little gills. She took to the water immediately, but I think she'll be fine for short periods of time in open air. I'll have a filter

made for her before tomorrow. " As he said this, Abe seemed to become acutely aware of the distance - or lack of distance - between Nuada and himself.

"I, er, I suppose you haven't seen Odula yet," he said, shifting the baby into his other arm, then folding back the white blanket to allow the king a better look.

"Yes, you haven't had a chance to hold her," Nuala breathed.

Nuada made no move to receive the white bundle, but Abraham, on cue from Nuala, held his daughter out to him nonetheless. "Say hello to your uncle," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Nuada reached for her, trying to avoid brushing arms with his sister's consort. For the first time, he looked at the cross-bred child, and was surprised by how graceful she appeared. Somehow, the diversity of his sister's elegant Elven features and Abraham's fish-like appearance had blended seamlessly into the new being in his arms. Her skin was nearly white with a strong under-hue of blue, but the shape of her eyelids–now scrunched in sleep–betrayed the fact that she had inherited her father's eyes. Yet despite that and the gills, the child–Odula–looked very Elven. As Nuada held her, her delicate, nearly translucent gills fluttered as she stretched, then relaxed as she fell back into limp slumber.

Carefully, he laid his niece next to her mother, who, though half-asleep, curled her arm around the blankets protectively.

It was clear that Abraham, though standing a respectful foot away from the king, had no intention of leaving. Uneager to provoke a disagreement while Nuala slept, yet equally

unwilling to pass the time in tense silence, Nuada leaned over his now sleeping sister and gently pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Sleep well, my sister." He rose, turned away, and strode toward the door, without sparing Abraham as much as a glare.


	5. Chapter 5

_Four Years Later_

The Chamberlain, busy with his other duties about the palace, was not in the vestibule when the young princess crept in. She would never admit it to Eli and Micah, but the towering, faceless, black-armed guards frightened her. On the occasions her common-law cousins visited her, she walked past the figures with the same exterior ease her parents wore. Now however, with no eyes on her (as the guards certainly seemed to lack eyes), timidity betrayed her.

Her uncle, the ruling King Nuada, had gone inside moments before, and she would never allow him to see her afraid. He had defeated an entire room full of the mammoth black guards, so Mierles had once told her. Though the thought of a crowd of the dark soldiers converging on her lone uncle only served to render them more terrifying.

Odula had been sleeping when the king arrived, and by the time her mother sent a servant to wake her, court had already been called to session. It had taken her time to dry off and dress, so when she stood, just barely out of sight of the guards, there was no telling how far into the proceedings her family was. She'd put on her vermilion silk frock (which her father had said was too fancy for play), and was disappointed that no one might see her wear it. The doll she held onto tightly wore a small, perfect replica. Still, with the chamberlain gone–and she'd noticed he never seemed to be nearby on her uncle's rare visits home–there was no one to announce her, and Nuada had already told her that sneaking into the council chamber like a shadow wasn't proper behavior for a princess.

Fortunately, the council doors opened only a moment later, and her mother and uncle emerged, followed by her father, Mierles, and a few of the upper courtiers. Odula slid entirely out of sight behind the wall, and from there tested the atmosphere. Her uncle seemed in a decent mood, her mother fairly relaxed. That considered, she quietly emerged from her hiding place.

Nuada calculated the militaristic possibilities as Abraham prattled on about the newest movements of the ever-growing Purists. Despite the induction of twenty new warriors to his guild, the bare fact of the Elves' low population prevented them from ever opposing the humans in battle. Elves did not mate quickly, and his efforts toward self-sufficiency over the past eleven years amounted to nearly nothing in the face of his sister's determination to remain passive. Disgraceful though it was, he knew the only force keeping ragtag groups like the Purists from annihilating them were the humans' own laws.

"Hello, Uncle," a small voice interrupted the circle of leaders.

Nuada turned to see Odula's silver-haired head lowered in a curtsey. "Hello, Niece," he said, returning with a nod. She smiled.

"You were away a long time. I was wondering when you'd come back. I've been practicing."

"I'll have to watch you. But only if your mother tells me you've been good."

"She will!" Odula sent a pleading look to Nuala, who nodded once and confirmed, "She's been exceptionally well-behaved."

"Odula, darling," Abe said, "you look very pretty, but we're a bit busy right now. Perhaps you could wait outside?"

She was about to protest that she could be unnoticeable right there, but she suddenly noticed Mierles. The head guard was not wearing her customary soldier clothes, but a simple gown, like her mother's. Before she could question this, a courtier politely led her to the foyer entrance, away from the political discussions.

- - -

Their talking lasted for almost the entire day, during which time her father had checked on her periodically, apologizing that she would have to entertain herself for a little while longer. Finally, the sun outside had set, and her parents had retired to their bedroom. In a few minutes, she knew they would come to tuck her in.

She'd long since exchanged her dress for more water-suitable clothing, but had no plans to go to bed without first seeing her uncle. Leaving her doll on her desk, she left her room quietly (as it was connected to her parents' by the underground pool) and hurried to the king's chambers. The double doors were closed, but unguarded. Odula crept closer and listened. When she heard nothing, she knocked.

In a moment, Mierles pulled open one of the doors.

"Princess," she said.

Odula peeked around her to see Nuada, who was seated by the fireplace, his back toward her.

"I have to go to bed soon," she called to him. He turned and nodded to her again.

"Then I wish you a sound and safe night's sleep, your highness."

She leaned into the room, supporting herself by one hand on the edge of door. "Will you tell me a story?"

Mierles, still holding the door open, looked back to the king.

He smiled at his niece. "Yes, that will do. Come inside."

Odula skipped past Mierles, and trotted to the fireplace.

"Now, what type did you have in mind?"

As the two picked up their old rapport of Nuada feigning age and ignorance, Mierles quietly left the room.

"About King Balor, when you and Mother were little."

"Very well. Where did we leave off with that?"

"He defeated the human armies from the south and went back home, and Mother was waiting when you arrived."

"Ah yes."

"What happened after that? Who did you fight next?"

"King Balor first needed to hold council to inform his people of his success, and to learn where the humans planned to attack next. He needed to let his soldiers rest."

"Yes, but what about _after_ that?"

"Odula. A warrior must have as much skill at a strategy table as he does engaging his enemy on the battlefield. But, if this part is too uninteresting to you, you can always go to bed."

"I'm listening.

Nuada took his time resuming the tale. "At this time there were two major human factions. The ones in the south, and the ones in the northeast. While the southern faction lay defeated, the northeasterners were marching. King Balor's advisors told him that the trolls who lived in the northern mountain range were losing their battle, and had called for the aid of the elves. The king's army was exhausted after their previous victory, and he knew commanding them to fight again would be a mistake. What do you suppose he did?"

"Did he have another army?"

"No. Think about your training. How do you respond when your opponent strikes when you're injured?"

"Um ... least effort and most damage?"

"Yes. King Balor's army was too weak to engage the enemy. What do you do when you can't fight at your enemy's level, Odula?"

"Oh! Change the mode of battle."

"Good. The king kept his army to regain their strength and sent spies to the mountains. Human beings have no defense against our spies, so they reported everything. Upon receiving the information, King Balor saw that the human army had, ignorantly, not secured the water in that region. What kind of water is found in the mountains?"

"Rivers and springs."

"The army had camped by the river, but when the trolls fled to their caves, the humans followed them higher up, away from the river. That meant that every two or three days they needed to send scouts for water.

"The king sent several spies and a few soldiers to the mountains to intercept the human scouts. When the army noticed their missing members, they needed to investigate. An army cannot survive without water. In the meantime, the elves had built dozens of tents by the water, and flown flags showing that they belonged to King Balor. Do you know why?"

"Because it made it look like a lot of soldiers? Like the whole army."

"Very good. The scouts reported that they were being ambushed by the Elven army. They prepared to move back down the mountain, a little further down than the false camp, and prepare for battle. And they did it all without water, so the soldiers became weak. Only after they'd relocated the entire army and advanced on the camp did they realize the had been fooled. By this time, the human army was weary, but the Trolls had regrouped in their caves, and King Balor had sent his rested soldiers to aid them."

"Did we win?"

"Yes. We won."

"They wasted all that time just because you and the king tricked them."

Nuada nodded. "Go to bed."

"That story was short. Can't you tell me another? Tell me a story about the Trolls."

"I will. Next time."

"But you stay away for really long times, Uncle. I'll have to wait too long for next time."

"I will be staying here for several months, Odula. I will tell you another story tomorrow."

"Please, Uncle."

He looked at her sharply.

"Okay. I'm going to bed."

* * *

sexyninjalady - Thank you for reading and for your encouragement!

Danielle - Thank you so much for your thoughtful words of praise! That's a lot to live up to; I hope this and the future chapters don't disappoint.

I actually have two different endings written, and I'm not sure which one I want to go with. There aren't many more chapters to go, so I need to decide soon. :o


	6. Chapter 6

Since the king and queen of Elfland had been co-ruling from the same headquarters (a first in the very young history of modern human-elf relations), there had been an increase in the number of treaties and amendments signed between the two governments. This particular gathering was to refine, yet again, their land agreements. Since affirming the archaic truce via the U. N., the U. S. had been engaged in a slow battle in which the Elven king and queen asserted their irrevocable right to any non-urban area. Surprisingly, they met with opposition not only from The Purists, whose operations continued to grow, and politicians who saw potential profit in the untapped land, but also from environmental groups, who claimed, ironically, that the land needed to be preserved.

Nonetheless, today's agreement allowed the Elves some 200 square miles of only mildly-tainted (which was to say, formerly toxic) forest in the Northeast. As it was in their favor, Nuala had not foreseen any significant troubles.

In fact, all was signed and agreed upon in short order before the U. S. Secretary of State made an unpleasant remark–in passing–to the Secretary of Defense. Nuada, perpetually irritated by the slow-moving processes of the human governments, was signaling his new head guard to leave, when the defense secretary asked where 'that other soldier' had gotten to. It was an entirely reasonable question, Nuala thought, even considerate, and she knew her brother must already have a suitable answer. But the secretary of state spoke up first.

"That's the pregnant one. Don't you follow the news?"

The defense secretary's eyes went large, and Abraham had later told Nuala that the gentleman had not previously realized Mierles was a female.

But the secretary of state, probably encouraged by the other man's initial surprise, went on. Looking at Nuada in a confidential, chummy sort of way, he said, "So royalty can sleep around with the help in Elfdom too, hm?"

Some of Elven courtiers gaped at each other in surprise. Nuala remained rigid.

So did Nuada–for a moment.

That was all it took for the state secretary to realize that his joke was unexpectedly inappropriate.

Nuada glared at the man. "You dare compare my kind to your fleeting, lustful, teeming race?"

The entire human assembly stared, slowly comprehending the situation regarding Mierles' absence.

"You don't understand our culture," Nuala said for the second time in her political career. But the reporters, who were supposedly there only to record and not to question, were already shouting above each other in a frantic contest to confirm what they'd heard.

"The Elf-King has admitted to having an affair with one of his guards."

"Please," Nuala called to them, "You misunderstand us. Mierles is my brother's companion."

Abe, aware of the increasing dread and humiliation Nuala was feeling, was also addressing the frenzied crowd of cameras; "It's Elvish custom to mate for life. There's nothing at all illegitimate about their relationship. There's simply no such thing as fornication among Elves."

Their attempts did little to abate the uproar. Instead, the reports of a secret love nest turned into reports of a secret marriage. The human officials were uniformly stunned into silence.

Amid the chaos, Nuala looked to her brother, who was silent. His deep-flowing anger was directed not only to the hoard of human journalists and their marketing strategies, but to her as well, for her insistence on working with the creatures he despised most on Earth.

_I'm so sorry_, she wanted him to hear. It was a nightmare, but like all their nightmares, one they shared. She wanted him to remember that she had suffered the same insults.

_Nothing shared is lessened_, he thought to her in response, and gave his guard the command to leave.

...

There was little Abe or Liaison Manning could do to control the fallout of the press frenzy. Abe had suggested (to Nuala) that Nuada give a press statement, but she shook her head. "He wouldn't see the need to justify himself to them. Let it be."

He knew there was nothing more to be done, nothing he could have done to prevent the diplomatic catastrophe. Still, Nuala was pained, and he felt helpless. Idly, he wandered to Odula's room, thinking that she might be able to divert her mother's attention. He paused before her door when he heard a voice within. It was Mierles.

"It's very different from what you're used to here, remember. In Kiev, we walk openly in the streets, and people move out of our way."

"Why?"

"Your uncle will not allow disrespect. In his kingdom, you would truly be treated like a princess. All the people there would admire you."

Abe pushed open the door and stepped in. Mierles stood in respect, and he lowered his head to her.

"Hello Father," Odula chirped, making Abe wish–for perhaps the thousandth time–he could return her smile.

"Hello Odula, Mierles. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"I was telling the Princess about her Uncle's domain."

"Yes, I heard. Odula, why don't you go see your mother? I think she'd like to spend some time with you."

"Okay." She waddled over to the edge of the pool where her doll lay (dressed in a double of the clothes Odula wore yesterday), said goodbye, and left her father and Mierles alone.

After a pause, during which Abe tapped his fingers together and Mierles watched nonchalantly, he said, "Do you think it's necessary to tell her these things? She's barely five years old."

"I saw no harm in describing the outside world to her highness."

"The histories are one thing–the queen wants her to know where her people came from–but comparing her mother's rule to the king's... she's simply a bit young to be caught up in that dispute." As he spoke, he began to pace Odula's room, gesticulating to no one in particular.

"Is that what the bedtime stories are? Histories?" Mierles' tone was politely inquisitive. "Are the stories you teach her histories as well? I've read many of them myself. _The Tale of Genji, Utopia_, _The Merchant of Venice_."

Abe, momentarily surprised that Mierles had kept up with the books he read to Odula, turned to her and stared. "Well, yes. I've tried to select some of the greatest and most influential works of human lit–"

Mierles' disdainful "Hm," cut him off.

"You disagree with my choice of canon?" Abe asked, sounding worriedly interested in a critique. "I admit I've already made several revisions. I can never seem to decide whether or not to include Anne Bradstreet."

"I merely find it interesting that you chose to expose her to _human_ art, when neither you nor her Royal Majesty are human, and yet dispute her knowledge of humans' reactions to us."

"I... I never thought of is as a political choice. I merely wanted to expose her to the range of humanities. The King provides her with plenty of the elements of Elven culture."

Mierles shrugged disinterestedly.

"As a point of curiosity, what did you think of the selections?"

Mierles regarded him, almost fondly. "You have a gift for showcasing the best humanity has to offer. It's a pity intelligence and insight don't lead to a longer life among their kind. Perhaps if the authors you so admire were still living, his royal Majesty would have more patience in negotiations."

"There are many like them alive now. But, unfortunately, they're not the ones who go into politics. I've often entertained the idea of forming an arts council between the races. I've no doubt it would be much more productive."

"As I cannot see how anything could be _less_ productive, so I suppose I agree."

Abe stopped pacing again. Mierles' bearing, like many of the Elves, particularly the Elven guard, was utterly composed. Statuesque, he thought. Even her movements, graceful and measured, seemed natural for a being crafted from stone. He hoped Odula would inherit that trait, rather than his own nervous manner.

He waved his hand in a propeller-like manner as he tried to call the most effective words to his aid. "I want her to _understand_. Not just Elven culture, or human culture, or any one set of beliefs. Throughout history –all history," he clarified, "the belief and propaganda that the Other is primitive, evil, or what-have-you, has prevented all manner of peaceful solutions from being enacted. Odula is coming into a very divided world. She needs to see both sides clearly. She needs to know that humans and Elves both want, essentially, the same things, that they've both

become distracted from them, and that they've both used horrible means to obtain them. I want her to see that we're all the same. We're all sharing this world, and our goal is to share it properly."

Mierles, head inclined to the side, regarded him with her usual amused curiosity. "But what do you hope that will lead to?"

Abe sighed, looking down at his hands. "I hope that it will provide her with a lifetime free of war. And if not that, it might at least prevent cultural hiccups like the one we endured today."

...

"Mother? Why is everyone upset?"

As happy as she'd been to find a companion who shared her tactile insight, and as impossible as it had been to hope any child between them wouldn't inherit the ability, Nuala regretted that her daughter shared the burden of sensing the tension of others.

"Something happened at the meeting," Odula prompted her, settling onto the floor next to her mother's bedroom chair. "But no one wants me to know what."

"One of the human rulers said something very rude to your uncle."

"Why?"

"He didn't realize what he was saying. In the humans' culture, it would have been friendly."

"Then why is Uncle angry at him? And Mierles and Father too?"

"Sometimes it is difficult to separate what someone says from what someone means. Your uncle is insulted that the secretary spoke to him with a human joke," she let her hand drift down to Odula's thin, silvery filaments. "He believes the Elven culture is superior."

"Is it?"

"It is older, and less changing. But that doesn't make it better or worse."

"What did he say?"

"It's not important, nor does it bear repeating," Nuala said kindly, but firmly.

"Mother?"

"Yes darling?"

"Will you die?"

"Why do you ask that?"

Odula was looking at her doll, running her fingers through its matted hair. "Human kings and queens are always dying, then the princes and princesses start ruling. When King Balor died, you and Uncle started ruling. If you die, will I have to be the queen?"

"Elves are immortal, Odula, you know that."

"You might get killed."

"Yes, that is true. But you are far too young to worry about that now."

Nuala remembered the last time she'd tried to defend the Elven culture. The circumstance had been unappealingly similar to the one earlier today. Not a year into the joint rule, a human reporter had somehow discovered – or more likely guessed – that King Balor's death had not been peaceful. The rumor had spread through the pestilence of human tabloids, and one of the U.K officials questioned Nuada about it. As they had not yet divided the hemispheres, Nuala was with him. Nuada had not deigned to acknowledge the remark, sending the assembled officials into an excitement.

Nuala, distraught, had insisted that they did not understand the Elven culture.

"It's a part of Elven culture to ascend to the throne by assassination?" one particularly cruel representative had cried in response.

For the next several weeks, Nuala wrote hundreds of responses and letters, trying to put her father's death by her brother's hand into human terms. _A violent overthrowing of the residing monarch, brought about by the aging King's unwillingness to preserve the well-being of his people._ None of it could stem the overflow of unrest and morbid obsession.

"Mother?"

Odula's question brought her back to the present. "Yes darling?"

"Will Father die?

She did her best to push worry from her mind and fingertips, and smiled. "Everything dies someday, my dear. But not for a long time. There is no need to worry now."

* * *

Author's Notes

I'm sorry for the disgraceful delay in updating. The really bad thing is that this chapter has been written for such a long time, but I was so uncertain about it that I didn't post it until now. It also didn't help matters that I moved twice since my last update, but it's not really an excuse. I had my computer.

For the past year that I've been kicking this story around in my head and typing it up, I've been divided over whether or not both twins should have children. I generally dislike fanfics where everyone ends up having babies, and even though I think it's justified in this case, I've been really uneasy about it. Firstly, _The Golden Army _is all about pregnancy and babies, and the next generation overall. Secondly, when you have Liz and Hellboy apparently able to get pregnant, any alternate-ending fic (in which Nuala and Abe both live and stay together), begs to address the question of whether an elf and an... Abe can conceive. Thirdly, from this fic's earliest conception (gah - no pun intended), I knew that I wanted to show Nuada and Nuala complementing each other. As they are opposites, they push and pull against each other relentlessly, keeping a balance between them (but being severely unbalanced in themselves).

The character of Mierles came about purely because I thought that if Nuala had Abraham, Nuada would need to readjust his bearings and find another part-time counterpart. Wink probably served this purpose while Nuada was in exile, but now Wink's dead and Nuada is dealing closely with his sister again. Did I need to make his new companion a female with whom he could develop a working, "romantic" (for lack of a more accurate term) relationship? Probably not, but I didn't want to run the risk of re-incarnating Wink's personality, and I thought the complication of giving Nuada a mate would make the story more interesting.

So, there's my long-winded, nervous defense for this chapter's events. I'd love some thoughts on it, even if (or rather, especially if) you think I made a bad choice.

**Comments on reviews from the last chapter:**

sexyninjalady: Yes, I wanted to show another (hopefully plausible) side of him. He's recognized that Odula *is*, like it or not, the next generation, and lacking an heir of his own, he wants to instill in her everything valuable (of course, that changes a bit in this chapter...).

Thanks again for your long and flattering review, Danielle! 3

I think Nuala and Abe must be aware of the stories Nuada's telling their daughter, so they don't seem dangerous enough (to them) to try and stop him. Nuala probably thinks the history is important, at least. Nuada seems to take certain paternal rights when it comes to his niece (I was perhaps reading too much Faulkner when I wrote this), and I hope that will continue to be an interesting detail.

Way back when the film was brand new and I started writing, the plot was going to cover a much larger period of time. Ultimately, I found it superfluous, because no matter what it kept ending the same way. Initially, the whole point of this fic was to change the tragic ending. But tragic heroes persist in finding tragic ends, and it was quite a struggle to change that. I won't tell you whether or not I succeeded. ;)

Regarding the other Hellboy fic, thank you. This movie really helped me understand a particular aspect of love that _never_ made sense to me before. If you've read the O. Henry story "The Gift of the Magi," you may remember that the husband and wife each sell their most precious possessions (his gold watch and her hair) to buy accessories for those possessions as gifts (she gives him a watch chain and he gives her combs). The lesson, I suppose, was the willingness to sacrifice for one you loved, but as a child all I thought was "that's so stupid! If they knew each other better, they'd know that the other wouldn't _want_ them to sell their hair/watch just for a gift." Well, I had the same reaction to Abe and Nuala the first time I watched it. "He should have known that's the last thing in the world she would want! What a stupid sacrifice for the sake of sacrifice!"

Upon reflection, however (and after reading "Unbroken" by websandwhiskers [/u/1393109/websandwhiskers]), I started to see it as a sincere sacrifice of love. Webandwhisker's fic says "he believed himself damned for this, for _her_." Love, particularly in del Toro films, is so often imperfect and flawed and _real_, _The Golden Army _really did help me to appreciate the intentions of selfless love, rather than just the results. Anyway, even if Nuala saw his turning over the crown piece for what it was meant as, I imagined that Abe would have some very different reflections on it. I was honestly sad over the ending, and these thoughts would only leave me alone if I wrote them down.

I think Nuala had other reasons for making the choices she did, and she probably would have made the same sacrifice ultimately no matter what. But perhaps she wouldn't have been driven that far if Nuada didn't have the army at his command, and I think a grief-stricken lover would come to that conclusion. I would find a way to blame myself if I were in Abe's place.


End file.
